Eros & Psyche- Hetaliaverse!
by Lily Lewis
Summary: Invented in the late 18th and 19th centuries by France and England, this magic card game picks you a partner for the night, with whom you then perform a number of tasks. However, you are on separate teams, each trying to outwit the other and force them to resign from the game. FrUK, Spamano, GerIta, Giripan, PruCan, RusAme
1. Rules and Intro

**A/N: Okay, ****I decided I needed some practice writing sex scenes and this is what became of it...**_  
_

**The inspiration for this is "Eros & Psyche" by RZZMG, an amazing Harry Potter fanfic writer. If you want to read the story, it's in my faves. Basically, it's a magic card game that the basic plot of which is everyone having hot, kinky sex. Perfect for my purposes. ~And there's love, don't worry!~ So this is just a chapter with the game rules, so feel free to refer to this over the course of the story. The next chapter will start the story (and will also have a quick rules overview). The entire rules is copied and pasted from RZZMG's story (she gets loads and loads of credit) with a few changes to make it a bit more suitable for hetalia fans instead of potterheads/gay sex instead of hetero.  
**

**The characters I will for sure be using are England, France, Greece, America, Russia, Italy and Germany. The two for-sure pairings are FrUK and GerIta. I need 12 characters total, so suggest me some people/pairings and I'll probably include them! Enjoy!  
**

**Warnings: full-on sex, France, kinks, France, possible torture/punishment, France, possible 2P!Characters, France, swearing, France... yeah you get the idea.  
**

**On with the introduction!  
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_Eros_ was a legendary magical card game that had its origins in the decadently wicked Gay Masked Gentlemen's Clubs run by France of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries in England's country. The objective was rather simple: you played from the time the first card was turned until the final question card was read, and all turns had come to a close. Whichever team had the most players standing at that point won.

More specifically, the game was played with an even number of participants on two teams, all of homosexual males, evenly split between submissive and dominant, and was typically engaged in a location that would remain secret to all except to the currently engaged players. It was comprised of four blank decks - so named _Partners_, _Interrogations_, _Forfeits_, and _Deeds_ - the content of which was determined in advance by the players themselves.

The first deck, _Partners_, was simply a deck made up of the names of all participants in the current game set. These cards were charmed to create a magically binding contract with anyone who signed their name to them; once you accomplished that, you were bound to play the current game set to its completion – much like _Jumanji_ in that way. The signatory release also bound you to an Oath of Secrecy; in effect, you were gagged from talking about the specifics of what happened in the game with any outsiders.

Once all players had signed their _Partners_ cards, the submissives put theirs into a pile, which was then shuffled. The dominants – the _Eros_ component to this whole shenanigan, as he represented the primordial God of Sexual Love - would then take turns drawing a card of his intended _Psyche_, the mythological woman Eros fell in love with. That uke would then remain the seme's committed partner throughout the entirety of the game set. Once every player was matched up, they held onto the card of their associated partner, as it assured the connection between the two of them until the completion of the game.

After partners had been determined, each player was then given two blank _Interrogations_ cards that he would fill-in with two questions of their choice. They were also given two blank _Forfeit_ cards which he would assign a heinous punishment to, and two blank _Deeds_ cards, from which he would dispense a delicious reward to balance out the punishment. This was done twenty-four hours in advance of the game's beginning, to give time for players to think up suitable content for their cards.

In the case of the _Interrogations _cards, the questions you made up were required to always start with the phrase, _"If you had to…"_ What you asked after that was entirely up to your deranged, little mind. You wanted to be positive, however, that you would only write down a question that you wouldn't mind answering yourself, out loud, in front of all of the other players. The challenge was therefore to balance out your insane curiosity of the other players' secrets versus your own comfort level in dispensing _your_ confidential information to those same people.

On the night of the actual game, everyone's _Interrogations _cards were put into a single deck and shuffled well. Then, taking turns in a clockwise direction, a player was to draw a card and read it aloud. Each question represented a 'round,' which would only end once all players had either answered the question, or refused to answer the question. There were consequences for either decision, of course.

For players who actually chose to answer the _Interrogations_ question, they were compelled to do so with honesty, as the enchantment on the be-spelled deck coerced the truth from a person's mouth as if they'd been dosed with vodka. When they completely answered the question, they were then allowed to draw from the _Deeds _deck. This set of cards was made up of suggested 'rewards' for the players who showed remarkable courage in answering the questions put to them, and because this "compensation" was determined by the players themselves in advance, the _Deeds _card drawn could vary between something as simple as a foot massage to something a little more risqué, such as claiming a kiss from your partner, to the full kit and caboodle of engaging in full-on sex with your partner. The partner, in this case, had no choice but to submit to the _Deeds _card's requirements placed upon them, or they would be required to bow out of the game. If a partner forfeited the game, both players were 'retired,' with the surrendering half considered the 'loser' for their team's final number advantage. It was akin to a 'Truth or Dare' sort of situation.

To add to the excitement, the charm on the game itself allowed any number of accoutrements to magically appear as necessary to fulfill a _Deeds _card's requirements. So, one could literally put just about anything down on a _Deeds _card and the magic would assure that any necessary items to fulfill that card's requirements would be made conveniently available.

On the other hand… if a person was uncomfortable answering a question from the _Interrogations _deck, they could choose to pass and draw instead from the _Forfeits _deck. The intent of this deck was to punish those who wimped out. These cards were penalties made up by the players, too, and contained shocking and scandalous fines; anything causing permanent physical damage, blood loss, or psychological trauma was caveat understood as absolutely not being allowed, and no spells were to be used against anyone for any reason, according to the rules. (England and France had invented the game, after all.) Everything had to be physically performed on your partner, not magically. The trick in writing up your _Forfeits _cards was to balance out what you wanted to discipline others with versus what you, yourself, would tolerate acting out, in case you picked your own card.

The amount of time to indulge in each _Deeds _card or to participate in a _Forfeit _card was exactly twenty-five minutes per action. Meaning, you and your partner would typically closet yourselves away from the others to act out your cards for a total of fifty minutes per round, with the remaining ten minutes in the hour relegated as a 'rest' period - read: making yourself presentable again for public view, or getting your emotions under control.

The game ended when the last _Interrogations _card was turned, or when one of the two finalist partners caved, refusing to perform a _Forfeit_, whichever came first. The team with the most players still 'standing' at that point won. The whole ordeal took about 24 hours, and usually on a Saturday, so players would have all of Sunday to recover from the game's activities.

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**A/N: There you go! So review with characters/pairings, and fave/follow! Next chapter will be up as soon as I get the pairings worked out! Chapters will be fairly long. Chapter order will be: Question, 6 sub-chapters with pairings, Question, etc. There will be contests, with one-shots as prizes. **

**Also check out my other Hetalia fanfics, Allied Ski Trip and You Make Me Smile!  
**

**XOXO, France  
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	2. Saturday at Noon- Dress to Impress

**A/N: Heeeeeeey, Ya'll miss me? No, I'm not dead, mortally wounded, missing or kidnapped by one of my crazy friends (here's looking at you, Mome-chan)! I've just been really busy... like, musical auditions/guitar lessons/Hetalia video/3 fanfictions/voice lessons/vacations/homework/school/social life busy. And this is also an incredibly long chapter, with a POV from every character who's in the story. No worries, it won't be quite so crazy in the future.  
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**BTW, if you're also reading You Make Me Smile or Allied Ski Trip...yeah...about that. It might be a while, just saying... but I will update, never fear!  
**

**Review Replies:**

Francey-Pant98**: Aw, thank you. I certainly hope it'll be worth the wait!**

New Prussia (Guest): **Yeah, I'll definitely include Spamano. I will be using Prussia, but with a different pairing. Sorry!**

Mome-Chan: **Haha. I knew you'd like it! XD**

Bladeofwater:**Sorry, China's not in here, but I can hint at RoChu if that'll make you happy? And I also have a RoChu one-shot called "Defying That Cruel Russian Winter" if you want to go check it out!**

Brattyteenagewerewolf: **Thy wish is granted! *waves magic wand* I give thee… PruCan!**

CanadianShikigami:** You are about to be one very happy reader- all those pairings are included :)**

Little Miss Abrasive:** XD yesh, there's both of those pairings in here, no worries :) And I'm really glad I have someone reading this who's read the original... Such an incredible author she is! Oh, and I love your username :)**

_**Image Links:**_

_**(I'll post links to DESCRIBED outfits/accessories/places.)**_

_**(just remove words in parentheses and replace with indicated punctuation)**_

_**France's outfit: **_

_**http(colon, double slash) .com(slash) **_

_**Greece's outfit:**_

_**http**__** (colon, double slash)**__** .net(slash)fs71(slash)i(slash)2010(slash)331(slash)a(slash)4(slash)hetalia(underdash)greece(underdash)by(underdash)ukialek(dash)**_

_**~SONG FOR THIS CHAPTER: I JUST HAVEN'T MET YOU YET, BY MICHAEL BUBLE~  
**_

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England had been cleaning out his closet when his hands brushed against something dusty with neglect. Taking out the mysterious object, his eyes widened in surprise. It was a deck of Eros & Psyche cards- he hadn't used these in decades. He'd invented them with France, though they'd never used them together. The mutual hatred had stopped them, on account of them possibly being paired together…  
But things had changed now. England shoved the deck of cards into his pocket, and decided to clean another day. Now, he had some letters to send…

~France~FPOV~France~

I'd just taken a shower when I heard the post come. Still naked, I descended the grand marble staircase of my _château_, whistling as the white stone sparkled in the morning sunshine streaming in through the windows and skylights. I grabbed the mail from the mat, and looked through it. Fashion magazines, invites to wine tastings, bills (I always found it slightly stupid that I had to pay bills to myself), and… what's this? A letter from _Angleterre_? He only sends letters when it's incredibly important… I grabbed a letter opener and sliced it open.  
_"France,_  
_I've found something interesting that I want you and several others to take a look at. Meet me at my house at noon this Saturday, in your best attire._  
_ -England"_  
Well, then. Of course, my best attire would be as I am now, but I'm not sure _Angleterre_ would appreciate that. Seeing as it was already nine, I headed upstairs to get dressed.  
An hour later, dressed in a floor-length, dark blue coat with black and white detailing and lace cuffs, a white shirt with lace tucked into a pair of tight-fitting, black pants. I'd put extensions in my pale, golden-blonde hair and gathered it into a loose ponytail with a few strands framing my face. I'd put on light makeup, and completed the look with a lacy cravat, black, 3-inch heeled, knee-high fold-over boots, two thin black leather belts that extended up from my right hip to wrap around my waist, and a long saber with a hilt wrapped in red, white, and blue ribbons that extended all the way down the blade. The sword was purely for decoration, but could be useful if I ever needed it. You'd never know what would happen. On my way out, I grabbed a bottle of my best wine. England didn't know shit about cooking, but while he had good alcohol, I preferred my own. Besides, the more the merrier!  
I called a limo and headed for my private airstrip (all the country representations were as rich as their economy was good- very rich, in my case). The flight was about an hour and a half, which gave me plenty of time to find my way to England's manor… I always got lost in his country!

~Spain~SPOV~Spain~

I'd woken up late in my _villa_ on the outskirts of Madrid. Reaching up, I rang a bell for my maid.  
"_Si, Senor_?" She comes in with a curtsy and I frown.  
"Maricela! Just call me Antonio." She smiled and nodded, but I knew she'd never listen. We had this conversation every morning.  
"Breakfast, _Senor_?" She asked and I nodded. Maricela came back a few minutes later with a silver tray laden with rich black coffee, a pitcher of milk, and a plate of churros.  
"_Gracias_, Maricela." She nodded, a smile playing on her lips as she poured the milk into the coffee, then handed me my mail from a pocket in her apron. She left with an "_Adios, Senor_!" and a swish of her long white skirts.  
I ate my breakfast as I looked through my mail. Mmm, the _churros_ were wonderful. Rosa had outdone herself this morning. Bills- Francisco, my butler, would handle those- a letter from the Prime Minister asking to meet me for drinks and _tapas_ on Monday, a note from Romano to stay away from- he's so cute!-and… A letter from _Inglaterra_? He didn't send me letters… He only sent mail to _América_ and sometimes _Francia_, who always swooned over it.  
"_Dear Spain,_  
_I've an important matter to discuss with you and several others. Romano will be there and alcohol will be served. Please meet me at my house at noon on Saturday, in your best clothing._  
_ Cordially, England"_  
I laughed and got up. This sounded like fun, and if Romano was going to be there, why not? I'd love to see my little tomato. I did like Inglaterra said and put on my best outfit.  
On my way out the door, I stopped.  
"Francisco!" I yelled and he appeared.  
"_Si, Senor_?" He asked with a prim bow.  
"Francisco, can you bring me a bottle of my best wine from the cellars? Rosa should have the key. And can you get me my war axe? Make sure it's polished and sharpened. Tell Raul I'll need to go to the airport. " Francisco nodded, and left, coming back a few minutes later with a bottle of wine and my axe.  
"Rosa sends her regards," he added with a hint of a smile. Rosa must have cussed him out good for making her go down to the cellars. "Raul is waiting in the drive." I nodded, and headed outside.  
"_Hola, Antonio_!" Called Raul, waving an arm from the limo. I grinned and jogged over, opening the passenger door. Raul let out a whistle as he saw my axe.  
"That monster goes in the back, Tonio! No way am I letting it anywhere near my head!" I rolled my eyes and placed the axe gingerly on the backseat, sliding in beside Raul and slamming the door.  
"What's the wine for? Visiting that _Italiano_ again?" Raul asked, pulling out of the long driveway. Raul's my best friend, with the exception of _Francia_ and _Prusia_. He's a good joker, an excellent dancer, and an even better drinker! Plus he's not bad looking, so the chicas just go to him gladly when I say I'm not interested. I leaned back and wondered about what _Inglaterra_ wanted to discuss, and then gave up. I don't like thinking very much; it's too serious!

~Romano~RPOV~Romano~

I woke up early, and spent an hour dragging that _idiota _out of bed. I swear, that bastard is way too spacey and happy for his own good. He skipped down to breakfast, singing, at about 8- way too late, in my opinion. I had a..._meeting_... at 8:30, so I quickly grabbed some of the pasta he cooked up and ran out the door, slamming it behind me. The _bastardo_ could figure out how to tie his shoelaces by himself for once.  
I pulled the collar of my jacket up higher around my ears. I didn't want to talk to anyone; I had business to do.  
I turned down an old alley and entered the red-light district. I hated this place. Busty women leered at me from doorways, pretty boys winked at me from the corners. The area was run-down, dirty, reeking of the stench of the bodies bought and sold there. I could hear music coming from an old building, and I knew I'd arrived. Why the others in the mafia liked to hold the meetings in a strip club, I never could understand.  
A pretty, short blonde boy was twirling around a pole, clad only in platform boots and booty shorts. An electronic screen next to him was recording numbers, which went steadily up. The price for his innocence- they were bidding on the boy.  
Sickened, I turned away and headed up a dimly lit wooden staircase to the second floor.  
The air was wreathed in smoke, and I coughed as I made my way over to a table around which were seated several tough-looking men.  
"Finally, Vargas made it." One laughed and I nailed him with a glare, shutting him up instantly. People knew not to mess with me here. I ruled the mafia, the streets of southern Italy. My idiot little brother was the special one, the talented one, with all his paintings, sculpture, and food... I was forgotten. Discarded, in favor of _him._  
The meeting wound on. I barely heard a word. Not that I cared anyway, but I had to pretend I did.  
They were somewhere in the middle of a discussion about the local brothels when, _Brrriiing! Brrriiing! _I swore loudly, and ran to answer my phone amidst rowdy laughter from the other men.  
"Si?" I asked, not bothering to check caller ID  
"Fratello! Fratello! AlettercameandIcan'topenitandGermany'stoofarawaycomehelpmePLEASE!" I yanked the phone away from my ear as my brother spewed nonsense through the phone.  
"A letter? From who, idiota?"  
"From _Inghilterra_! Isn't that weird? He never sends letters. I wonder..." I let my idiot brother babble on. Why on earth was England sending letters? And to us, as well?  
"I'm coming. Just... don't, like, lose the letter or anything, idiot."  
"And I once had tea with him, it tasted like- Oh, you're coming? Okay! I promise! I won't lose it!" I sighed, and hung up, then left.  
On my way out, I saw the blonde being led to a back room by an old, greasy man with a black tie. I felt sorry for him, but there was nothing I could do.

~Russia~RPOV~Russia~

"IVAN!" Ukraine yelled from the kitchen for the third time that morning. I sighed, and finally got up. I was bored; there was nothing to do in the house and China had refused my offer to have tea sometime. Stretching, and still in my boxers, I went down the hallway and slid down the banister of the black marble staircase.  
"I really wish you wouldn't do that," Ukraine scolded and smacked me with a stirring spoon. I laughed and gave her a kiss on the cheek.  
"I don't care, _sestra_."  
"Shame." I followed her down into the kitchen.  
"What's for breakfast?" I sniffed the air hungrily.  
"Oh, now you're hungry!" She turned around and I barely avoided another hit from the spoon. Ukraine is deadly with those cooking utensils of hers. One time, she got mad at me while chopping vegetables… I still remembered that, even though it was many centuries ago. "If you want breakfast, you have to shovel the driveway first!" I gave her a pleading, puppy-dog eyed look. "You know that only works on Natalia." With another sigh and an eye roll, I went to get dressed and shovel.  
My boots crunched through the fresh, crisp, clean snow, my breath ghosting and clouding in the air. I started to shovel, and saw Ukraine watching through a window, waving. I made a rude hand gesture at her and she left, laughing.  
About half an hour later (we have a very long driveway) I heard the postman come. Well, this was unusual. In Russia, you were lucky to get your morning post by dinner- of the next day! I dug my way down to the mailbox, and retrieved the mail. Newspaper, letter from the Prime Minister, newsletter from the _Bolshoi_, and… a letter from Anglia? He _never_ sent letters to me.  
I gave up on the shoveling- the Baltics could do it later- and walked back into the house- or, rather, mansion. Most people were amazed by the size of it. But that's just the way things are in Russia- we can't have the newest, or the best, but damn it, we can have the biggest.  
"Ivan! You didn't finish!" Came a sing-song voice from the kitchen accompanied by the sweet smell of _blini_ frying on the stove.  
"Post came." I said by way of explanation, and she rushed over to me.  
"Really? What's there?"  
"The usual, and a letter from Angliya."  
"Anhliya? Why?"  
"Hand me a knife and I'll read it to you." It was my older sister's turn to roll her eyes as she handed me a giant carving knife from the chopping block.  
"Ah-ah-ah, set it down," I commanded before picking the knife up myself.  
"You and your stupid superstitions," Ukraine complained, turning away from me to find the jam.  
"_zatknys'._I'm reading the letter.

_Dear Russia,_

_I have a matter of importance that I wish to discuss. Alcohol will be served, and feel free to bring your own. Dress in your finest, and meet me at my house at noon on Saturday._  
_-England"_

"_Blin_! Now I have to go looking in the attic for your old clothes…" Ukraine muttered.  
"Who says I'm going?"  
"I am. Now eat your breakfast." She slid a plate heaped with _blini_ towards me, and I didn't argue any further, preferring to turn my attention to my food. This meeting of England's was the most exciting thing to happen around here recently, so I didn't mind attending.

~America~APOV~America~

"Neeeeew! Pow! Pow! TAKE THAT, YOU UNDEAD BASTARDS!" I yelled, shooting down the zombies in my game. Suddenly, the doorbell rang, making me jump and drop the controller. A zombie immediately pounced and ate me, while Canada laughed at my frantic attempts to find the controller. "Aw, shut up, Canadia," I muttered and went to grab the mail.  
"What is it?" Canadia asks, and I toss a package of maple syrup at him.  
"Yes! I've been waiting for this!" He quietly cheers, and goes off to make pancakes. I drop all the bills and tons of magazines on the kitchen table- Canadia can take care of those- and look at the letters. Postcards from friends, Prez wants a meeting, and… England? What's he sending letters about now? And why to me and Canadia? Only France sends letters to Canadia…  
"Yo, dude, bro!" I yelled into the kitchen. "Limey's sending letters again!"  
"What about, eh?"  
"I dunno! I'll read it!" I struggled for a minute opening the letter, hearing the water run in the kitchen for a moment before Canadia came in, drying his hands off. He leans his elbows on the table while I read.  
_"Dear Alfred and Matthew,_  
_I'm holding a party on Saturday at 12 at my house. Bring some drinks and food, and dress in your best clothing._  
_ See you there, England"_  
"Dude, it's a paaaartaaaay!" I yelled. "We have to come!" Canadia shrugged.  
"If you don't mind, I don't think I'll come."  
"Aw, come on, dude! You can't miss this!" I put on my best puppy dog eyes look. Canadia sighed.  
"Fine, I'll come. But I really won't like it."  
"YEAH, MAN!" I yelled, hugging him. I had the best big bro EVER!

~Prussia~PPOV~Prussia~

"WEST!" I yelled, stumbling slightly with a glass of beer in my hand. "West!"  
"I'm coming, I'm coming, vat is it?" Germany called, running down the stairs.  
"Kesesese! I need you to get another pack of beer!" I yelled at him, swaying slightly.  
"Nien." I looked at him, shock making me sober for a second.  
"Nien?! You un-awesome asshole!" I tossed the rest of the glass in his face and stumbled back upstairs, Germany's voice drifting up behind me.  
"It's three in the morning and you want beer… I can't believe you, Gilbert…" Yeah, yeah, that's because he's an un-awesome bastard…

~*~7 hours later~*~

"Preußen!" I was awakened by a yell that seemed to split my head in two.  
"Shut up, West..." I quietly groaned and winced. Oh, God... _how _much had I drunk last night?! I felt like I'd been hit over the head by a sledgehammer...  
"East!" Germany yelled, walking into my room where I was sprawled on the black-and white sheets. He grimaced in distaste at the decor- every available inch was covered in my flag, because PRUSSIA IS AWESOME! I glanced over at my little brother.  
"What? Shut up and leave me alone."  
"That bad, is it?" He asked, walking over to the bed.  
"Like a semi truck ran over me and now they're backing up to see if I'm flat enough." I deadpanned, and Germany let out a rare laugh.  
"There's a letter for us downstairs. I didn't want to read it without you." I groan.  
"Can't I, like, do it tomorrow? When the hangover wears off?"  
"Nien. That's what you get for drinking beer in the middle of the night." He grabbed me by the leg and dragged me out of the bed.  
"Nien! Nien! Put the awesome me down! I'm coming, I'm coming, I swear!" I yelled as I slid across the sheets and onto the floor. Gingerly picking myself up, I followed West down to the kitchen.  
"It's from Großbritannien."  
"What? He's so not awesome..." I rolled my eyes and opened the letter.  
"Let's see... meeting, bring beer, dress in your best clothing...and it's at noon, on saturday." I glanced at the clock. "HOLY SCHEISSE NOON ON SATURDAY!" I grabbed Germany.  
"West, that's in, like... 2 hours!" I ran upstairs to take several aspirin and to get dressed.  
"I take it you're coming then?" Germany asked from the kitchen.  
"Ja, du Idiot!" I yelled back.

~Canada~CPOV~Canada~

All I'd wanted was a quiet morning- or, at least, as quiet as it could get with my little brother America running around. And now he's dragging me to some meeting.  
It's not that I don't like him, or England- it's just that I'd rather peacefully stay home and eat pancakes than attend boring meetings.  
After America finished crushing me with his hug, he skipped off upstairs to get dressed. Still massaging my ribs, I followed him.  
England had said we should dress in our best clothes, so I searched my closet for my old uniform. Funny, I never thought I'd find a use for that thing...

~Germany~GPOV~Germany~

Needless to say, I hadn't had the best morning. First, I was woken up by Prussia demanding beer at three in the morning, then all my carefully organized plans for the day were ruined by England's meeting. Personally, I felt that if someone wants to have a meeting, they should send out notices several weeks in advance. Not two hours before you're supposed to be there.

~Italy~IPOV~Italy

I was really curious about what was in the letter. Inghilterra never wrote to us. France wrote to him though! France was always talking about Inghilterra!  
"Let me in, you bastard!" Oh, that must be Lovino. He's always angry; I try to give him hug therapy, but it isn't really working.  
"Where's that letter?" He yelled as he barged in.  
"It's on the table! I think..." I looked over at the kitchen counter. Oops. No letter.  
"Idiota!" Lovino cursed and went looking for it. I decided to make pasta.  
I was on my third pot of ravioli when he found it.  
"Alright, Feli, you dumbass- listen. This is fucking important." He read it over, and frowned. Oh dear. Inghilterra must not have written good news.  
"Look, Feli... the tea bastard wants to have a meeting..."  
"Oh, but that's good, right?" I liked the meetings. I could drink wine and talk to Germany and see France and Hungary!  
"Bastard! Do you really want to go?" Lovino looked disgusted. Uh oh. He sighed. "Fine." He threw the letter down. "Tea bastard says you have to dress nice. You have a red uniform somewhere, don't you?" I grinned. He remembered!  
"Si! And you have a black one. You should wear that!" Lovino groaned. He hated his black uniform, because Antonio always said he looked really cute in it.  
"Fine, bastard! But I won't like it." Lovino headed upstairs. "Feli?" He asked, halfway up.  
"Si?" I asked, checking on the pasta.  
"You need to change."  
"Oh! Right! Grazie, fratello!" I skipped up the stairs and hugged him.  
"Get off me, bastard."  
"I love you too, Lovi!"

~Greece~GPOV~Greece~

"Archontas Karpusi..." A quiet voice murmured, waking me from my dream.  
"Ti?" I asked, opening my eyes to see one of my servants looking down at me.  
"Archontas, Deianira has drawn your bath." I groaned and got up, several other servants following me. I shrugged of my robe and slipped into the water, Alethea, Delia, Lysandra, and Teresa slicking up their hands with oil, massaging my muscles. I leaned back, enjoying it.  
"Archontas, the mail's here."  
"I'm too tired, Sophronia. Can you read it?"  
"Of course, Archontas. There's a letter from Anglía."  
"Really? That never happens... Can you move the cat? I'd hate for it to fall into the water." Sophronia startled, and quickly moved the kitten aside. I loved cats, but they could be a bit in the way sometimes.  
"_Dear Greece, _  
_I've found a deck of Eros and Psyche cards, and I'm inviting some other countries to play the game. Could you join us? The game starts at noon on Saturday. Dress to impress your partner. _

_ -England"_  
All eight of the girls immediately started whispering amongst one another. They knew about Eros and Psyche, of course. They also knew I was a country- they themselves were nymphs and dryads. I waved my hand and Ambrosine quickly ran over with a towel.  
"Archontas, are you going to do it?" Electra asked, slipping a robe over my shoulders as the other girls hurried off to find clothes.  
"Naí. It sounds interesting, and it's been awhile since I last played..." I was about to continue, when Delia rushed back in.  
"Archontas! You won't believe what we found in your closet!" Delia grabbed my wrist and dragged me off, to where Lysandra, Teresa and Pelagia were holding up an outfit.  
It was a white tunic, with a long, sky blue cloak that wrapped around it. On my bed lay a black pin with delicate black chains hanging from it, a brown leather choker, a bronze armband and earring cuff, and a pair of brown, knee-high Greek sandals.  
"I'd almost forgotten I had that..." I said quietly as they happily put it on me. As soon as they finished, Alethea and Raissa came in with a huge mirror.  
"Do you like it, Archontas?" Asked Lysandra. I looked over myself critically. The tunic hung perfectly, stopping just about mid-thigh, the cloak swirling around me as I moved. The slight jewelry accents were the perfect touch, and the sandals fit perfectly.  
"I like it. Well done, korítsia." They all smiled, and then led me out of the house to my driver- it seemed they'd already called him.  
"Good luck," called Deianira, thrusting my cross into my hands. I looked at her, curious. "You never know," she said, and shoved me into the limo. Picking up a cat that had followed us outside, she waved to me along with the other girls. I waved back, then relaxed for a nap. I didn't want to fall asleep tonight.

~Japan~JPOV~Japan~

Six o' clock. My eyes opened automatically, my body clock turning on. I glanced out the window- a gorgeous sunrise was peeking over Fuji. I should invite Italy over, he'd love to paint that. I immediately got out of my futon and began rolling it up-us Japanese believe in hard work, morning to night. And politeness. Politeness is everything-If you will excuse my saying so.  
I tucked the futon away into one of my many shelves and got dressed in a simple, light blue household kimono to start cleaning.  
First, the kitchen. I finished washing the dishes for the third time, and then started on my bedroom. Dusting the walls, the floor, and the shelves, though thankfully not sneezing my head off like last time. Next, the baths. I watered all the plants, and cleaned out the tubs. I had just gotten out the furniture polish for the dining room when I heard a polite knock. It must be the mailman. I set down my cleaning supplies and brushed off my hands. The mailman was waiting at the door, both of us bowing before he handed me a single letter. He bowed to me again, leaving with an  
"Excuse my intrusion."

Hesitantly I read the return address. "Ingurando...why would he be wasting precious time writing me a letter?" I murmured before tearing open the envelope perfectly.

I read the card inside, written in Ingurando's neat, crisp handwriting.

_Saturday, at my manor, noon. Dress in your best._

I frowned. How strange. Well, I just couldn't sit by and ignore an invitation from my friend Ingurando-it would be incredibly impolite.  
Tucking the invite away, I started to clean again,then put down my supplies. I'd have to dig out my best kimono, and that could take a while... I just hoped the meeting wouldn't be too stressful, I really needed to relax...

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**A/N: Ok, yeah, there's that... next chapter, they actually find out what the "meeting" is, and France goes fashion-crazy! Plus, the Bad Touch Trio and England find a use for those weapons... yeah, there's a reason that everyone's bringing one. **

**Ok, peoples- if you have ideas for cards (a deed- something sexy to do to your partner, an interrogation- something everyone has to answer in front of everyone else, or a forfeit- a "punishment" a partner would have to do if they don't answer the interrogation) then TELL ME! come on- it's your chance to see these guys do anything you want. ;)  
**

**and a great big THANK YOU goes to my BFF, SailorDarkMoon765, who saved my ass on Japan's POV... Merci, mon cher! 3  
**

**Review/Fave/Follow!  
**

**XOXO, France  
**


	3. Partners, First Interrogation

**A/N: Okay, apparently people didn't like the last chapter as much... *sadness* Come on! You don't like, tell moi why! Uhm... Not sure what else to say here...  
**

**Review Replies:**

.Freedom: **Firstly, love the username. Secondly, Spain's just special that way. **** And what's with the weapons? Let's just say they're not all best buddies…**

Rid3ThatChocob0: **Yeah, I kinda have a tendency to over-promote myself…sorry! And I'd love it if you put in ideas **

CanadianShikigami: **You are a genius. And my new best friend… *evil grin***

Little Miss Abrasive: **Ahahahaha… I wrote that, then stared at it, thinking, "**_**someone**_** is going to take this the wrong way…" It didn't take long, either… And I'm glad you like the PruCan! **

Brattyteenagewerewolf: **PruCan seems to be a fave pairing… well, I'll have to make note of that. And WEAPONS! I'll have fun with those…**

Francey-pants98: **Ok…Love,love,love the interrogation, even though it means I'll have to do research… XD**

Rinzlerkitty94 (Guest): **Love the interrogation! And no worries, FrUK is my fave pairing, so expect plenty! **

DanieSora**: Sorry, I've already picked couples! But I can do mentions of a few of those, if you like **** If you want me to use your ideas, send me card ideas.**

**I realize I messed up the picture links last chapter. /shot/ Sorry! Review if you want them, and I'll PM them to you, ok? **

**~SONG FOR THIS CHAPTER IS VOULEZ-VOUS BY THE CAST OF MAMMA MIA~**

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~England~EPOV~England~

After I'd sent out the letters, I pretty much just lay there bored, hating myself. France. I'd invited France... All I could do now was pray we wouldn't be partnered. I must not have been thinking. Either that, or those bloody cards were starting to play tricks with my head... Suddenly, the grandfather clock began to toll.  
_One, two, three..._ I really should get a pot of tea going..._ four, five..._ Then again, I didn't know what they'd like..._ six, seven, eight, nine..._And I did ask them to bring alcohol..._ ten, eleven, twelve..._well, too late now..._thirteen_... Hold on a second, _thirteen_? I bolted upright, but the clock showed twelve. A bell tolled again, and I glanced at the door. No way was anyone here that early... I walked over and opened the door, only to be smothered in a crushing, rose-scented hug.  
"France! Get the bloody hell off me!" I yelled, shoving him aside, feeling a slight twinge of regret at the hurt look on his face. I quickly shoved it away, though, as he produced a bottle of wine out of nowhere and looked around.  
"Cher, do you have a bottle opener anywhere?"  
"Yes- in the kitchen."  
"Well, can you get it for me, s'il vous plait?"  
"Of course not! Get it yourself- you know where the kitchen is." Heaving a dramatic sigh, France flounced off, coat swishing and long hair bouncing.

~France~FPOV~France~

Really, England needed to learn some manners. So what if I knew where everything was in this house? He still should fetch things for me. I'm a guest, after all.  
I uncorked the bottle of wine and fetched two glasses, filling them and bringing everything back, handing one of the glasses to England. As he took it, I looked over him.  
A giant, red tri-corn hat was slightly cocked to the side on his head, decorated with gold ribbon trim, a blue stone in the center with a gold chain hanging from it, and two giant white plumes. A rose was affixed to the side, making me smile. That was _my _flower.  
His coat was scarlet, with black and gold trim. Like me, he wore a lace cravat, but his had a giant, vivid green emerald in the middle. A cherry red sash was tied around his waist, a pistol stuck in it. His shirt and pants were white, the pants almost sinfully tight.  
Brown boots with laces and gold buckles gripped his legs up to the knees, and gold hoops decorated with rubies were in his ears. A brown belt with the Union Jack as a belt buckle.  
Very, very sexy.  
"I see you've gone for the pirate look," I said when he noticed me staring.  
"You're not much better." England glared at me over his wine. I laughed.  
"You always did copy my style, cher. Come, we should sit down somewhere more comfortable, shouldn't we?" I led the way into his living room, and flopped down on a couch, England sitting down primly across from me. I loved that- the way he does everything so accurately and carefully, giving attention to the smallest details.  
The living room was probably my favorite in this house. The decor was in a tasteful gold, red, and brown theme, the center of the room occupied by a large low coffee table. Four long couches were arranged around it. Tapestries and paintings hung on three of the walls, and the fourth was covered in weapons and shields. The carpet was a blood-red color, but not too plush, so I had no trouble in my heels. A giant crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, and could be lit with either candles or electric lights. I turned my attention back to England.  
"So, cher, what's this meeting going to be about?" I asked, swishing my wine around the glass before taking a sip.  
"Well, er, you see..." England nervously reached into a pocket and pulled out...  
_Oh no he didn't. He couldn't have. _  
In a second, I'd tossed away the wine, leaped over the coffee table, and was straddling England, my sabre at his throat.  
"Bâtard! What are you doing with those?!" I was furious. We'd promised never to play it together! Not that I wouldn't want to, but... still. England shoved me off his lap and into the table, knocking the wind from me. He leaped onto the couch and snatched a sword from the wall, pointing it at my throat.  
"We're playing the game. Besides, what are the chances we'll be partnered?" He glared, and snorting, I sheathed my sabre. Fine, if he didn't know, it wasn't my place to tell him. England replaced the sword, and slid back down onto the couch, critically examining the wine stain on the carpet. I slowly picked myself up, and glanced at the spot.  
"Salt works." I sat down next to him, leaning my head on England's shoulder. He shifted away, and I just stretched out across the couch, head in his lap, an eyeroll accompanying my clinginess. I couldn't help it! I was the country of love- it was in my nature to be this way, especially with Angleterre. I closed my eyes, and the doorbell rang. England made a move to get up, but I shoved him back down and yelled, "It's open!"

~Spain~SPOV~Spain~

No sooner had I rung the bell to England's manor than I heard a voice yelling for me to come in. I grinned- France was already here. Here, and, as I saw, already busy molesting England.  
"Watch the wet spot," he cautioned as I walked over. I glanced down to see a slightly darker patch on the carpet. Raising an eyebrow, I cautiously ventured,  
"What happened here?" I wasn't too sure I wanted to know.  
"My glass broke," France replied, motioning to a pile of broken glass on the coffee table. I stared at the dripping, glistening shards with a sigh. It was only 10 after 12, and we'd already broken something.  
I sat down on the couch across from them.  
"So, what's this meeting about?"

~France~FPOV~France~

I glanced over at England, and back at Spain.  
"We'll tell you when everyone gets here," England explained, succeeding in shoving me from his lap. I stared at the carpet for a moment before picking myself up and straightening out my hair and clothing, going over to sit by Spain, who wrapped an arm around me. I noticed England's expressing flicker for a moment at the affectionate gesture, and leaned further into my friend to see if I was right.  
I was. England shifted uncomfortably in the silence.  
"So..." He began, and I raised an eyebrow. "Erm...How's the weather for you?" Spain and I shared a look, and burst out laughing. As we roared with mirth, I critically examined his clothing choice for the night.  
Well, he'd certainly taken England's dress requirements to heart. His coat was a deep, wine-red with huge, gold diamond accents on the chest and shoulders. A white shirt with a black tie and red-and-gold brooch peeked out from underneath, partially obscured by a gold sash similar to England's. A pair of thin gold chains hung from the sash, extending over his tight, black silk pants with elaborate gold embroidery over the outer seams. Black leather boots with fringe came up to his knees, and he wore a billowing, swirling red cape over it all, which did not disguise his war axe. It looked pretty- the blades were styled to look like a dragon's wings- but I'd seen him use it. The deadly efficiency of that weapon was astonishing.  
As we finished wiping tears of laughter from our eyes, the doorbell rang. And rang again, and again, and again... England ran to get it, and Spain pulled out a bottle of wine, offering it to me. I took a quick glance around, then grabbed England's glass, drained it, and let Spain fill it up again as he laughed.

~England~EPOV~England~

I finally got to the door and pulled it open. Just as I'd thought, I found the Italy brothers. Veneziano had cleaned up nicely, but Romano looked a bit, shall I say, scruffy. I barely managed to leap aside in time, as Veneziano skipped through the doorway, Romano yelling at him.  
With a sigh, I leaned up against the door frame. I was seriously doubting that this was a good idea.  
Suddenly, I heard yelling from the living room. Oh, God...

~France~FPOV~France~

"Frérot!" I yelled as soon as I saw Veneziano, embracing him. My little brother was just the cutest.  
"Ciao, Francia!" Veneziano yelled, and we both turned to watch as Romano walked in. He glared at Spain, Veneziano, and especially me, before launching into a long series of swears as Spain hugged him. Having finally released himself from my friend's grip, he sent me another dark look. What was _I _doing? I'd just been greeting mon frère. With a hug and kisses...  
"So, Bastards, what's this fucking meeting about?" Romano growled, yanking Veneziano away from me and sitting down. I knew what to say by now.  
"The purpose of this..._meeting _shall be explained later." England gave me a grateful look- my tone was relaxed. Really, I'd accepted by now we'd have to play, so I might as well be happy about it. We sat in a tense silence for a minute, England and Spain glaring at each other, while I studied the latest arrivals to this game.  
Romano was dressed in a sort of black police uniform, with a white shirt and black pants with suspenders. He'd put on a black cross, and his jacket was black with gold buttons. A black tie hung loosely about his neck, and a gun was shoved in his belt. His hands were covered with black leather gloves.  
While slightly sloppy, the end result was presentable.  
Veneziano, on the other hand, was channeling England, his clothes blood-red and far more elaborate than his older twins'.  
A high-collared,long red coat with gold tasseled epaulettes was worn over a princely white shirt with gold accents. Slightly baggy but flattering white pants were tucked into brown, mid-calf boots. He had black gloves on his hands and a gold cross around his neck, similar to his brother. I noticed that a gun was tucked into his belt as well.  
Suddenly, I realized something.  
"England!" I called out in the tense silence. He looked at me strangely. "Can I discuss the meeting with you? In private?" Highly suspicious, he followed me out into the hall.  
"What is it, Frog? And get away from me!" I was standing closer to him than normal.  
"It's not that," I explained. "I don't want them hearing this."  
"Fine." I leaned down slightly and whispered,  
"The cards- what about siblings? They're enchanted not to partner you with direct relations, but _technically _since we're countries we don't have actual DNA. Therefore, no genes or relatives." England was gaping by the time I finished.  
"Bloody hell, I never thought of that... and with the Italy twins, German brothers, and our sons coming, it's actually a real danger..." I raised an eyebrow. Why had Canada not told me of this? Why had England even invited him in the first place?  
I tapped him on the shoulder with a white-gloved hand.  
"You haven't answered my question."  
"No."  
"No what?"  
"No, there is no spell on the cards that will stop country family members being partnered." I smacked him. Idiot! He'd spelled them, why hadn't he done the job right? "I never thought we'd have countries playing," he said by way of explanation. I groaned.  
"Is there anything we can do about it?" I asked and he thought for a moment.  
"Well, I suppose I could charm these cards not to partner certain people..." I gave him a swift kiss on the cheek, which he wiped off, grimacing.  
"Parfait! How do you do it?" England looked me over with an almost pained expression, then grabbed my sleeve and dragged me down the hall after him.  
"Wait up!" I yelled, yanking my coat from his grasp. He'd stretch the fabric! We resumed walking at a more normal pace, but slowed down when we reached a carved wooden door at the end of the hallway.  
The door creaked as England opened it, and a spicy, musky, exotic smell drifted out.  
"Incense," England said, and handed me a dark green cloak that had been hanging inside the dark room. I wrinkled my nose. _So _unflattering.  
"Oh, put it on. It'll protect you in case the spell goes wrong." I looked at him warily, fumbling with the clasp.  
"And how likely is that?"  
"Not very likely, actually. I'm not nearly as bad of a magician as you all think- Russia simply likes to fuck things up for me sometimes." England reached over and closed the clasp for me. I gave him a sweet smile and he rolled his eyes. Oh, well.  
"Follow me," he said, and lit a torch, revealing a spiraling stone staircase. I stepped in after him, and closed the door behind us. The black was total, the torch the only light to guide us.  
"You can let go of me, you know," England said and I looked to see that I had his arm in a death grip. I eased myself off of him reluctantly, and took a step forward, only to trip and go flying. I gave a gasp as England grabbed my hand, stopping me short and nearly wrenching my arm from its socket.  
"Maybe you should stick closer to me," England suggested, linking his arm with mine. The rest of our descent was rather uneventful. When we got to the bottom of the staircase, England put out the torch, leaving us in the inky blackness. I clung to him tighter, and England whispered,  
"Watch." He blew lightly on his palm, a golden glow lighting up his face. He flicked his wrist outward, and dozens of candelabras around us burst into flame, lighting up the room.  
"Very Fantôme de l'Opéra," I commented, and England looked at me, then realized I had my arm around him. Did you know it hurts to be thrown into a candelabra? England pulled out the cards and placed them on an altar in the center of the room. He knelt, and started muttering some nonsense.  
A faint green glow spread around the cards. England lifted his arms, and the green smoke parted, then vanished as he dropped his arms.  
Slowly, he stood and turned to face me, eyes glowing green in darkness behind the hood. I pressed myself back against the wall, scared slightly.  
Suddenly, a shudder seemed to pass through him, and England's eyes returned to normal. He gave a proud smirk.  
"It's done." He turned away from me, and headed back up the stairs. I scrambled to my feet, snatched up the cards and followed him, racing up the stairs and back into the light of the main hallway.  
Having checked to make sure I was there and the cloaks were hung back on their hooks, England snapped his fingers, and all the candles were snuffed out. He thrust his hand forward and the door slammed shut.  
We headed back to the living room, the modified cards in hand.  
When we arrived, Canada, America, Russia, Greece, Germany, Prussia, and Japan had arrived and were sitting on the couches. When England and I arrived, we were mobbed with questions of what the meeting was about. I barely managed to hand the cards off to England before being dragged off by Prussia and Spain.  
The room was a veritable explosion of fanciness and color, each country dressed in their finest.  
Canada had pulled his reddish blonde hair into a side ponytail, and had put on his uniform- a black shirt and black pants, with a red coat with black and gold accents over that. his boots and belt were brown with gold buckles, his gloves soft brown leather.  
America had worn his Revolutionary War uniform, complete with the bayonet. The coat was a dark blue with white and gold trim, his pants the same navy blue color. His shirt was white and his boots and gloves black, and he'd actually brushed his hair for once.  
Russia had completely transformed.  
Gone were the usual beige coat and white scarf- in their place were a gorgeous navy blue coat with a red silk section at the front and two rows of gold buttons. His epaulettes were gold, with chains connecting to his red and gold collar. Russia's pants were white, as were his gloves. The boots were brown, and went slightly past the knee. When he turned to look at me, I saw a faint glint of gold in his ears.  
Russia raised an eyebrow at me, having caught me staring. He shifted his gaze to the gigantic sword in his golden belt, then looked back up at me and gave a terrifying smile. Well then. The looks may have changed, but the scary factor did not. I quickly turned away, and my gaze landed on Greece, who, for once, wasn't sleeping.  
His look was much more like his normal clothing, perhaps with a bit more color and style. However, he still had a weapon- Greece was idly twirling a giant silver cross that looked like it could easily crush an enemy's skull. In fact, it was being eyed rather enviously by Germany, who had only brought a broadsword with a ruby hilt.  
However, the rest of Germany's clothing far outshined Greece.  
He'd worn a long, armor-like cloak with gold plating, a white shirt and black boots peeking out from underneath.  
Mon ami, Prussia, on the other hand, had taken the "casual approach" to the clothing requirements. Namely, he'd worn black pants, a white dress shirt with ruffles, bow tie and black loafers, and had leaned his broadsword on the side of the couch that we occupied along with Spain.  
Not that he looked bad- quite the opposite.  
Japan, however, was the biggest surprise that night.  
I hadn't even known he knew what the word "sexy" meant, much less owned something of the type.  
And yet, there he was.  
His coat was the same style as usual, only a bit fancier- the epaulettes were gold fringe, and there were gold chains across his chest.  
The color scheme, on the other hand...  
This coat was pitch black with blood red lining, as were his pants and boots. He'd even put on black eyeliner, which really made me wonder if Angleterre had told him what the "meeting" was about. I looked around where Japan was sitting, and sure enough- there was his katana. I swear, if any humans chanced upon our meeting they'd think we were assembling an armory.  
By this time, everyone had settled down and become somewhat quiet.  
Spain, Prussia, Germany and I were on one of the long couches. Directly across the coffee table from us sat England, Japan, Greece, and Russia. On the loveseat to my left were Romano and Veneziano, and across from them were America and Canada.  
Shooting me a look, England stood up.  
"So, er, everyone's obviously made it to the meeting..." I instantly facepalmed. Mon cher needed to learn public speaking.  
Sighing, I got up to help him.  
"What Angleterre is trying to say is how... _glad _we are everyone could make it. Now, well, this isn't exactly a meeting. This is... a... _challenge_." I looked over at England, who didn't seem to know whether he should thank me or smack me. I pressed on.  
"England here found something and thought it would be a good idea to put it to use." I stuck out my hand for the cards, and England reluctantly handed them over. I held up the deck, a hush spreading over the room.  
"Eros and Psyche." Instantly, every man in the room bolted to his feet- everyone, but Greece.  
"I told him," explained England. I nodded. The cards had been his idea originally, and he was the only other country who had played the game- though it seemed the others knew of it.  
"Bastard!" Romano yelled, pointing his gun at England. I turned to find Japan's katana pointing at my heart. A quick look around confirmed that almost every country was threatening either England or me, the exceptions being Greece and Canada.  
Yikes.  
"Well done, frog," hissed England, backing up.  
"Don't worry, I'll think of something," I said but England hushed me.  
"Haven't you done enough?" He growled, and then raised his voice.  
"You know, you don't have a choice."  
"What?!" Now all of the weapons were pointed at England. Me, I took the chance and got away, going to stand between Prussia and Spain.  
"You all heard me- you don't have a choice. You have to play."  
"Really?" That was Japan. He'd slid his katana back in its sheath, and had walked right up to England.  
"Really. As you probably know, the cards are magical- you are bound to play the game. If you don't, there will be..._consequences_." Even I shuddered at the words, even though I knew they were lies- the binding spell didn't take effect until after you wrote your name on the card.  
"Alright?" England asked angrily, and the rest of the countries put away their weapons. England grabbed the cards out of my hands, and began passing them out.  
"Now, each person gets two Interrogations cards-" he held up a blank card, the back of which was blue with a swirling gold design. As I looked closer, I could see that the designs were actually swirling and shifting on the back of the card. "-two Forfeits cards-" they looked the same as the Interrogations, only black with silver swirls, "-and two Deeds cards. Don't lose them, you'll fill them out in just a moment." The Deeds were red, with a white design. England then held up two other stacks of cards.  
"This is where it gets personal. Top, take a black card. Bottom, take a white card." The design on these cards was unmoving- it was a picture of a young couple, both dressed in Greek robes. The man had his hand around the woman's waist, and the other in her hair, which was long and flowing. She had her palms on his chest, and they looked at each other with love in their eyes. I reached for a black card, and traced the stark white design with my finger before flipping it over.  
"Now, write your name on the card," commanded England, setting a jar with pens in the center of the coffee table. I quickly grabbed one and put my name down.  
"Those with white cards, stack them in the center of the table." I noticed that Japan, Veneziano and Canada all put their white cards down, as I'd expected. What surprised me was that Romano and America set theirs down too. Then, lo and behold, England of all people set his white card down on top of the stack.  
"Russia, would you shuffle?" England asked, handing the stack over. Wordlessly, Russia accepted it and bridged the cards a few times before handing them back. Just as silently, England set the cards back down in the center of the table.  
"Now- back to the cards I first gave to you. On the Interrogations cards, write down two questions. They can be absolutely anything- but remember, you'll have to answer them as well, or take a Forfeits card. On those, you put down two punishments- obviously, nothing that will cause permanent or severe emotional damage." The last statement was accompanied by a pointed look at Russia. "On the Deeds cards, write down two rewards- again, they can be anything, but as you all know the purpose of the game, well..." He trailed off, his meaning obvious.  
"When you have finished, place your cards in the stacks. Oh, and by the way, any _items _that may be needed for the Deed or Forfeit will appear and disappear as needed- it's part of the cards' magic." He set his cards down. He must've filled them in a while ago.  
The room filled with quiet whispers as the countries discussed the contents of their cards. Prussia, Spain, and I all shared ours between one another before placing them on the table.  
When everyone had put their cards back, England once again handed them off to Russia to be shuffled.  
Once everything was set, England clapped his hands once.  
"And now..." He paused. "We pick partners." Everyone stilled for a moment, thinking over what they'd written, thinking what this statement entailed.  
"Those with black cards, pick a white one. Going clockwise, from my left." Everyone stared at Spain for a moment before he realized that meant him.  
"Oh, si! Lo siento." He reached over me and grabbed a white card. A huge smile split his face, and Romano groaned.  
"Lovi, look! We're paired!" I laughed as Romano screamed in fury. Poor Romano! And poor Spain, should he choose a Forfeit...  
"France, your turn." I noticed England's voice broke as he said my name. I looked at him for a moment. He really must not know, then... but what was he hoping for? What if... he actually _wanted _us to be partnered? I reached forward and picked up the next card.  
As I'd known, it was England's. He kept a poker face as I showed it to the room.  
It was Prussia's turn next, and he got Canada, who, I noticed, paled and then blushed slightly as Prussia read his name out. Has my son not been telling me something?  
"West, your turn! Kesesese!" Prussia elbowed his brother and leaned back on the couch with a wink at Canada. Germany was oddly hesitant as he reached for a card. Well now...  
"Veneziano." Veneziano looked happy at the pairing, but I couldn't read Germany's expression.  
"My turn, da?" Russia asked, standing up. He gingerly picked a card, as though it might bite him. He read the name and growled, throwing the card down, the name landing face up. America.  
"No way!" Said country yelled, jumping up, bayonet pointed at Russia, who quickly drew his sword.  
"You two! Settle down!" Germany yelled, but they leaped at each other, steel clashing. Yells came from all sides of the room as the two fought. Mon Dieu, I never thought everyone would be happy with their partner, but this was ridiculous!  
"Spain!" I elbowed my absent-minded friend.  
"What?" He asked, with a puzzled expression.  
"Stop them!" I pointed to his war axe.  
"Oh, right..." Spain stood, up, and lifted the incredibly heavy weapon, bringing it down with all his force between the clashing countries.  
_**Crack!**_  
The coffee table split cleanly in half with the force of the blow, although the cards did not spill- they floated, as if unwilling to mix themselves.  
"Stop. Fighting." Spain said quietly, as Russia and America reeled from the shock of his actions. Brought back to their senses, they sat back down, as did Spain. England stood up, and waved his hands at the table, which fixed itself.  
"Greece?" He asked, who replied,  
"Do I even need to choose the card? The only one left is Japan." Japan, who quickly looked away, embarrassed.  
"Please take the card," England said, and Greece did so, shrugging lazily.  
"Alright," England continued. "Now that everyone has their partner, we divide up into teams. Three black cards per team, three white. Partners can't be on the same team. Go!" He yelled as everyone stood up and began to split themselves up.  
When we finished, the teams looked like this: Spain, Prussia, Italy, Japan, America and I versus Russia, Germany, Greece, England, Romano, and Canada. Once everyone sat down again, England continued.  
"Now- the goal of the game is to keep going through the Interrogations and Deeds cards, with Forfeits as needed, until only one person is left standing- yes, you can bow out of the game, but if you do your team is that much closer to losing." I could see the point of the teams- it created enough competition to keep people playing.  
"To up the stakes, whichever team loses shall have to do something the other team requests- like losing a bet, if you will," England continued.  
"Now- the first Interrogation. France, would you do the honors?" England finished, with a sarcastic bow in my direction.  
"Certainly, cher," I said, blowing him a kiss. I grabbed an Interrogations card and nearly split myself with laughter.  
"What?" England asked, looking nervous.  
"It's- oh honhonhon- it's one of mine! And a great way to start the game, too..." I collected myself and read out the card.  
"If you had to go down on your partner right now because of a card, how would you feel about it- love it, hate it, or feel indifferent?" I winked at England and answered. "I'd love it, of course, mon coeur." Next was Spain.  
"Love it," he answered simply as Romano growled at him. Prussia answered next.  
"Indifferent, I guess," he said and shrugged. "I don't really know you, Canada. You're cute, thought, kesese!" He nudged Veneziano, who thought for a moment before answering.  
"Somewhere between love and indifferent." Germany turned bright red and I smirked. This was an excellent question to ask!  
"I-" Japan paused, and then shook his head, taking a Forfeit card. Greece looked slightly offended, poor guy. It was Russia's turn next.  
"Same as Veneziano." America gaped, red as beetroot and fuming. Russia shrugged.  
"I hate you, but you're very good-looking." We all just sat in silence for a moment.  
"My turn," Germany said and took a deep breath.  
"Love it." He quietly said, so softly I almost missed it. So he did like my little brother! No wonder he'd been nervous choosing a card...  
"Hmm. Indifferent, I think," Greece said and looked over at England.  
"I'd-" England stopped, as if choking on his words. "It won't let me lie!" He yelled, and I laughed.  
"You would know, cher!" England gave me a look of deepest loathing.  
"Fine! I'd love it, happy?" I looked at him, surprised.  
"Very. Your turn, Romano." The Italian country glared and silently took a Forfeit. Pity, I'd have loved to hear his answer.  
"Indifferent- I don't know you either," Canada quietly answered, and turned to look at his younger twin.  
"Hate it," America spat out, shooting a venomous look at Russia.  
"Well then," England continued. "Everyone who answered, take a Deed card. Private rooms are available if you need them. A bell will sound in one hour, at which time you must come back here for the next round." He waved his arm, and six of the tapestries hanging on the walls around us disappeared. So that's what they were for- to hide secret doors. I took a Deed card, and, without looking at it, headed over to England.  
"Sounds more like a Forfeit to me," Russia muttered from the table.  
"Same here! You think I _want _to touch you, Commie?" America yelled back at him as the two stiffly headed off to a private room. The other couples did the same, each choosing a different room.  
"England?" I asked, slightly tentatively.  
"What?" He turned to me, having finished reading his Deed card.  
"Is it a mere coincidence your living room is set up perfectly to play this game?" After all- six hidden rooms, and the only furnishings a table and couches that seated exactly six people?  
"No."  
"Thought so," I replied, and he motioned me to follow him to the last private room available.  
"Come on, we'd better hurry." I followed, insanely curious about his card.

* * *

**A/N: Well, there ya go! Hoped you like it! France's Interrogation belongs to RZZMG. **

**Contests:  
**

**Final Forfeit Contest: Review with suggestions of what the losing team's punishment should be! This contest will end when the story does (the punishment will be the last chapter). Winner is the person who's idea I like the most, and they receive a one-shot of any pairing they like!  
**

**Cards Contest: Suggest me ideas for cards! If I like your idea, I will read and review a story of your choice (and fave/follow if I like it :)) Just make sure to tell me which story!  
**

**Songs Contest: If there's a song you feel would fit a certain pairing or deed, question, or just a song, then review and tell me! Prize is the same as for the Cards Contest.  
**

**Review/Fave/Follow!  
**

**XOXO, France  
**


	4. RusAme: I Hate You

**A/N: Hey, peoples! I know, it's been forever. I'm sorry. And the word count here is pathetic... I'm sorry for that too. On the bright side, I've started work on the next chapter of AST, so that should be up pretty soon! XD  
**

**However, to make up for the pathetic word count, I give thee... YAOI! SEXY RUSAME YAOI! XDXDXDXDXD  
**

**Review Replies:**

Brattyteenagewerewolf: **Oh, don't worry about Canada… *evil laugh* And thanks for the song choice, I love it!**

CanadianShikigami: **Aw, thanks~ Hope you like this chapter! **

Rid3ThatChocob0: **Je vous remercie****, cher lecteur! ****I love your cards! Send moi more suggestions… ****S'il****vous**** plait?**

Francey-pants98: **Would you believe me if I said I laughed for five minutes straight after reading your review? XD**

Little Miss Abrasive: **Thank you! And fave review so far, I swear… "because the story is all one giant lemon" LOL. And, yeah, England's a closet perv. But don't worry, France likes them that way! **

Rinzlerkitty94: **And if I didn't have a girlfriend, I'd marry you too! XD Just kidding, but thank you! Hope you like this chapter!**

Katt1848: **Love your Interrogation, thank you! **

Rinzlerkitty94 (Guest): **Aw, I want to hear the other one! *sadness***

Eris van Helsing (Guest): **Oh my gosh, thank you! And thanks for the suggestions, I love those bands… seriously. I do. Hope you like this chapter!**

South the Lord (Guest): **Thanks for the advice! I love getting it, as long as people aren't mean about it (and you weren't). And don't worry **_**too **_**much about the forfeits… they're not that bad… not really, anyway…**

**It all depends on the suggestions I get! XD**

* * *

**~SONG FOR THIS CHAPTER IS "I HATE YOU" BY SICK PUPPIES. I VERY HIGHLY SUGGEST YOU LISTEN TO IT WHILE YOU READ!~  
**

**Song suggested by the amazingly talented writer, Brattyteenagewerewolf. BTW, Bratty (can I call you that?), if you have any other suggestions... I wanna hear them! Same goes for the rest of my wonderful readers!**

* * *

~Russia~RPOV~Russia~

America looked furious as he stomped into the room furthest to the left. I followed, not exactly happy either. How on earth was I supposed to come up with ten compliments for _him_?  
As soon as I entered the room, America yanked me down to him by my collar.  
"I know you think you hate me, Commie, but I will _always _hate you more. Got that? Now let's just get this over with." I smirked at him.  
"If you hate me so much, why not back out? You can always quit..." His glare got even harder.

~America~APOV~America~

"No way! I'm never backing down to you!" I yelled back at him, and let go of his coat, making Russia stumble back a few steps and rub at his neck. It gave me a small amount of satisfaction to know I could at least still hurt him.  
"My card first or yours?" He asked. I groaned. Might as well save my torture for last...  
"Yours," I spat back at him. Russia just shrugged and walked past me to sit on the bed.  
"I have to give you ten compliments," he replied calmly. I snorted.  
"Shouldn't be too hard- you practically confessed your love to me back there."

~Russia~RPOV~Russia~

I nailed America with my death glare, and he shivered.  
"Fine, fine. Just compliment me and be done with it." I lay back on the bed. At least I could still make him realize who was more powerful here.  
"Alright... one, you're good-looking." America stared at me for a moment, then sat down on a chair, looking bored.  
"Two, you're a good fighter. Three, your country is very technologically advanced. Four, you have a good government." I stopped to think, and he interrupted.  
"You like my government?" I raised an eyebrow and nodded.  
"But-the whole Cold War thing. You were communist!"  
"My _leaders _were communist," I harshly corrected him. "My people and I had no say in that."  
"Then why did you hate me then?" I sat up and stared at him in disbelief.  
"My people were _starving_! They had nothing. Nothing to fight for, nothing to believe in, no one to turn to. All because of you. They were dying- slowly, painfully. Do you have _any idea _what that feels like?"

~America~APOV~America~

I knew I'd gone too far. Russia wasn't angry anymore- he was hurt. Quickly, he turned his head, but I still saw the tears.  
"Hey, man- I'm sorry. That was out of line." I stood up and walked over to him, reaching a hand out to the Slavic country.  
"_I. Hate. You._" He growled, grabbing my wrist before I could touch him. Russia's grip tightened as he glared at me, his eyes seeming to burn. Suddenly, he let go of me, just short of breaking my bones. A twisted smile spread across his face.  
"You're brave. You fight for your beliefs. You don't give up. You can be smart. You have a good educational system. You can be nice, if you choose to be." Sarcasm dripped from every word, but I knew it was all truly what he believed- the cards wouldn't let him lie.  
"That's ten. Your turn." Russia turned away from me, his voice tight with fury.  
"Yeah, well, my card says I have to blow you so-" He whipped around, eyes wide with disbelief.  
"_What?_"  
"You heard me," I deadpanned. He let out a huge sigh, then stood up and started undressing. Even though he did it with utmost distaste, it was still a bit of a turn-on.  
Disgust filled me at the thought of finding _him _attractive.  
When he'd finished, Russia lay down on the bed and closed his eyes.  
"Go ahead," he said through clenched teeth. I walked around the bed, and looked down at him.  
If I were to be honest, Russia really wasn't at all hard on the eyes.  
Well-defined muscles were his chest, arms, and legs. His skin was frightfully pale, however, with thick scars tracing over his chest and continuing, I was sure, onto his back. Nonetheless, with his eyes closed and hair over his face, he actually looked kind of nice- better than him looking like he was about to kill me.  
_We hate each other. _  
_I'll take_  
_Whatever I can take_  
_Whenever I can take it_  
_If it ever comes..._  
I pushed down all my emotions, stripped, and hopped onto the bed, straddling Russia. I could feel him tense underneath me, see his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. His hands were clenching, and suddenly I realized- he was _scared._  
_I know you think you hate me, but I will _always _hate you more._  
Well, no wonder.  
I leaned forward, whispering in his ear.  
"_I won't hurt you." _

~Russia~RPOV~Russia~

My eyes snapped open as America's breath ghosted over my neck.  
"_I won't hurt you_." How I desperately wanted to believe those words, but I'd heard them too many times to believe it. America looked me in the eyes for a moment, sandy blonde hair falling down, framing crystal blue eyes. He hadn't worn his glasses tonight, choosing to go with contacts instead. I liked it.  
America slid his way down my body, stopping at my member. I stilled.  
"Oh, for God's sake, relax," America replied. "I'm not going to bite you." I sighed and relaxed- as much as I could, anyway, with the person who hated me most hovering over my crotch.  
Slowly, _agonizingly_ slowly, America lowered his head to me. I gasped as he trailed his tongue over my member, bringing it to attention.

~America~APOV~America~

I had to admit... when I got into it... I actually kinda liked it.  
Russia shuddered as I licked over him, fisting his hands in the sheets. I flicked my tongue in the slit on his tip, and choked as he suddenly bucked his hips. Laying an arm across his body, I prevented any further movement, though I could still feel him shudder as I blew him.  
Russia looked hotter by the minute. A light sheen of sweat covered his body, and he gave out light moans as I continued to pleasure him.  
I could taste the precum dripping from him, and couldn't help thinking how he would feel inside of me. The thoughts fueled my own desire, and I could feel myself hardening. God, I wanted him, and I hated him for it.  
A deep groan vibrated through his chest as I dipped my head, taking all of him in. Russia grabbed my hair, practically ripping it out of my skull. Oddly enough, it was a turn-on, and I gave a soft moan of my own, swallowing around Russia's member.  
"_Amerika... I-I'm close..." _Russia's accent was thick, and his movements shaky as he tried to pull away, which was strangely considerate of him. I pressed forward, however, and he gave up.  
Hollowing out my cheeks, I sucked on him, bringing my worst enemy to the edge.  
"_Amerika!" _He screamed, spine arching, as he came into my mouth. I did my best to swallow, though some cum still dripped down my chin.  
Crawling towards me, Russia cupped my cheek, and kissed me, tasting himself, exploring my mouth fully with a talented tongue. He trailed a hand down my chest, tracing a scar from the Revolutionary War.  
I blame post-blowjob lust for what followed.  
Russia's hand continued down, wrapping around my member, stroking me. I moaned, grabbing his shoulders and leaning into him. Russia growled, wrapping his other arm around my waist and claiming my mouth with his. His hand speeded up, and I dug my nails into his strong arms as I completely lost myself.  
A few expert flicks of his wrist, and I was gone.  
After the aftershocks wore off, Russia and I just looked at each other. Nothing was said, but with mutual agreement we both separated.  
Russia picked up one of the cards and looked at it, then said, sounding embarrassed,  
"Ahem... towels would be nice?" As soon as he voiced his request, a fluffy stack of cream towels appeared on the bed.  
"Uhm... thank-you?" Russia said to the card, looking nervously at the towels. I shrugged, walked over, and grabbed one, cleaning myself off before putting my clothes back on.  
Russia did the same, albeit a bit more hesitantly. Jeez, the towels weren't going to bite him! We made our way over to the door, and glanced at each other.  
"I hate you," we said at the same time, and stepped through the door.

_I hate you when you're gone..._  
_I hate you turn me on..._  
_I hate the way I need you when I don't know where you are... _  
_I love it even more when I find you on the floor..._

_I know you think you hate me, but I will always hate you more!_

* * *

__**A/N: Okay, credits time! *rolls up sleeves*  
**

**Song: as I mentioned, Brattyteenagewerewolf! *applause*  
**

**America's and Russia's cards: RZZMG, the inspiration for this story! *applause*  
**

**Part of the text and one line of dialogue: Sick Puppies, the (slightly scary) band who wrote the song! *applause*  
**

**Hetalia: Not me. *boos*  
**

**OKAY, NOW FOR CONTEST NEWS... *drumroll please*  
**

**CONTEST NUMBER ONE: Not really a contest, just me mooching off my beloved readers! JK, JK. I love you guys. *Elvis voice* Thank you, thank you very much. Thank you. *normal voice* Anyway, I'm basically asking you for song ideas, kink ideas, card ideas, etc. AND, IF YOU WANT A CERTAIN PAIRING FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER, TELL ME! Please.  
**

**CONTEST NUMBER TWO: Final Forfeits contest! Remember what England mentioned last chapter? About the losing team having to do something? Well, I have gotten amazing suggestions so far, but... I know you guys still have more crazy, twisted ideas! Winner will get a oneshot of absolutely anything, as long as it's Hetalia!  
**

**CONTEST NUMBER THREE: *New Contest!* 50th reviewer contest! Pretty much self-explanatory. the 50th reviewer (which might take a few more chapters, we'll see) will get a one-shot of their choice! That's right, ladies and gentlemen, A ONE-SHOT OF THEIR CHOICE! That means any pairing, no pairing, whatever rating/plot/time-frame or universe they like! Going once, going twice... And sold to the fiftieth reviewer! Congratulations!  
**

**...well then. Yeah. I'm a little hyper right now (I baked a chocolate cake today. Chocolate does this to me.) so that explains the insane Author Notes.  
**

**Review/Fave/Follow!  
**

**XOXO, France  
**


	5. Spamano: Everything

**A/N: Yeah, it's been forever. Sorry! I had this written, just couldn't find the motivation to post. Anyway, I received a few requests for Spamano so that's the couple! The song was suggested by Brattyteenagewerewolf, so this chapter's dedicated to her! *blows kisses***

**Review Replies: **

Brattyteenagewerewolf: **They're aussies? Cool… And now I'm really curious about what dikkop means. And thanks for the song suggestion, I went to listen to it and at about halfway through I started crying. Such a beautiful song /3 Perfect for that couple, too…**

Iikku The Eyebrow Master: **Thanks, I hope you like it! XD **

ShiNoHerupa: **Aw, thank you! And I do try to fit the songs to the chapter ;) It helps me write when I'm listening to music. And I hope you continue to like the story! **

Guest ( Whom I'm assuming is you, Rid3ThatChocob0) : **You've made me a fan, mon cher! Thanks for all the suggestions! And, yeah, that happens to me all the time- I'll be listening to some song, then I pay attention to the lyrics and it's like "OH SHIT, **_**THAT'S **_**WHAT THIS IS ABOUT!" XD**

Francey-pants98: **Thy wish is granted! Enjoy your Spamano! And don't worry… The FrUK chapter shall be EPIC. As pretty much everyone knows, since I say it all the time, it's my fave… So I promise to give it lots of attention! 3 **

Little Miss Abrasive: ** Merci! Love the song, and hope you like this next chapter as well!**

CanadianShikigami: **Merci, glad you liked it! AND HOLY SCHIESSE YOU LISTEN TO ADAM LAMBERT?! *flaps arms wildly* I LOVE ADAM! *glomps***

Eris van Helsing (Guest): **Oh my god! *flattered* I'm so glad you like it! XD And I love your forfeit! Now to figure out which character to use it on… *evil grin***

Rinzlerkitty94 (Guest): **Love it! And I may adapt that into a forfeit… if you don't mind? **

Katt1848: **Sounds interesting… But if I do that, I'd probably need help with said "plot"- Not too sure how to write something like that, lol. **

LawlietLennoxLove: **lol, yeah. It's kinda hard to write Hero!America, so I do tend to make him a bit more thoughtful/smart/actually give him brains. Plus, (in my little fantasy world) he secretly cares for Russia, so… yup. And as for France… I have something very very very fun planned for that chapter! Muahaha! **

* * *

**~SONG FOR THIS CHAPTER: EVERYTHING BY ALANIS MORISETTE~**

* * *

"Bastard!" I spat at Spain. Dear God, why did You have to partner me with him? I'd rather have the potato bastard. Hell, I'd rather have the wine bastard! Why did you have to partner me with the one person that actually liked me?  
And who was also the one person that I liked in return...  
I read my Forfeit again, and growled. Whoever wrote this was just being cruel...  
"So, mi tomate, do you want to go first?" Spain broke the silence, the usual stupid grin plastered across his face.  
"No. I have to do mine in front of the group. And don't call me that!" I snapped back, and Spain nodded.  
"Okay. Pick a song then!"  
"What?" I asked, not understanding. Spain had a bad habit of thinking you always knew what he meant.  
"We have to sing a duet! Pick a song!"  
"Chigi! I'm not singing!" I yelled and slapped him. Spain just laughed and insisted until I finally relented.  
"Fine... "Everything" by Alanis Morissette," I sighed, arms crossed. Out of nowhere, music started. A few slow notes, as though an invisible musician were there in the room with us. Reluctantly, I started singing.

"_I can be an asshole of the grandest kind_

_I can withhold like it's going out of style_

_I can be the moodiest baby _

_And you've never met anyone who _

_Is as negative as I am sometimes." _

I'd heard the song once when I was picking Feliciano up from Germany's house (stupid bastard lost his car keys) and the song had come on the radio. Feliciano had loved it, and for the next few weeks sang it whenever he was floating around the house. I'd become a bit fond of it, and it kinda fit Spain and I.  
Except we weren't dating.  
Of course not.  
I finished the verse, and Spain continued, changing the words slightly.

"_I am the wisest man you've ever met._

_I am the kindest soul with whom you've connected._

_I have the bravest heart that you've ever seen_

_And you've never met anyone who's_

_As positive as I am sometimes." _

I frowned. I wasn't trying to compliment him! Just because I chose the song...

"_You see everything, you see every part_

_You see all my light and you love my dark_

_You dig everything of which I'm ashamed_

_There's not anything to which you can't relate_

_And you're still here" _

I continued with the chorus, Spain joining in, taking a few steps toward me. I quickly backed up... I didn't want to be near him.  
Why?  
I don't know...

"_I blame everyone else, not my own partaking_

_My passive-aggressiveness can be devastating_

_I'm terrified and mistrusting_

_And you've never met anyone as,_

_As closed down as I am sometimes._

_You see everything, you see every part_

_You see all my light and you love my dark_

_You dig everything of which I'm ashamed_

_There's not anything to which you can't relate_

_And you're still here._

_What I resist, persists, and speaks louder than I know._

_What I resist, you love, no matter how low or high I go."_

"_I'm the funniest man that you've ever known."_

"_I'm the dullest man that you've ever known."_

"_I'm the most gorgeous man that you've ever known."_

"_And you've never met anyone_

_Who is as everything as I am sometimes."_

"_You see everything,"_

"_You see everything." _

"_You see every part,"_

"_You see every part."_

"_You see all my light," _

"_You see all my light." _

"_And you love my dark,"_

"_And you love my dark."_

"_You dig everything," _

"_You dig everything."_

"_Of which I'm ashamed," _

"_Of which I'm ashamed."_

"_There's not anything," _

"_There's not anything." _

"_To which you can't relate," _

"_To which you can't relate."_

"_And you're still here."_

"_You see everything, you see every part."_

"_And you're still here."_

"_You see all my light, and you love my dark."_

"_And you're still here."_

"_You dig everything of which I'm ashamed._

_There's not anything to which you can't relate."_

"_And you're still here... " _

As we continued singing, Spain kept advancing, backing me up to the bed. I glared at him, though worry gnawed at me inside. The cards wouldn't let him do anything, but...  
Softly, he pressed a kiss to my lips as the music faded away.  
A gasp tore from me.  
He...  
"Leave." It was all I said, but it was enough. Spain left, and I was alone.  
Why me?  
A million emotions swirling in my head, I prepared for my Forfeit, cursing the bastard who wrote this.  
The sick fuck.  
I mean, come on.  
_A maid's dress? _

"Bastard!" Romano yelled at me as soon as we entered the room. I just smiled at him. My little tomato was cute when he was angry! Besides, I knew he didn't mean it.  
Romano looked at his card and growled. Whatever was on there must be bad... Oh well, better to get it over with.  
"So, mi tomate, do you want to go first?" I asked, and he turned around, madder than usual.  
"No. I have to do mine in front of the group. And don't call me that!" I just nodded, but inside I was curious. In front of the group? It had to be something to humiliate him then... Poor Lovi!  
"Okay. Pick a song then!" I told him, and Romano's expression changed to one of confusion.  
"What?" He asked, and I laughed, explaining.  
"We have to sing a duet! Pick a song!" I was delighted about my card. I'd never heard Romano sing.  
"Chigi! I'm not singing!" He yelled and struck me. Once again, I dissolved into laughter. It was my way of dealing with things- I smiled, I laughed, I pretended to be happy.  
Most of the time it worked.  
I kept bothering Romano until he finally agreed.  
"Fine... "Everything" by Alanis Morissette," Relief washed over me. I'd been a bit worried he'd pick something in Italian that I wouldn't know. Even though the song was by one of England's people, I'd heard Feliciano sing it one time and I knew the lyrics fairly well.  
As soon as Romano named the song, it started playing, the music coming from all around us. England really knew his magic.

"_I can be an asshole of the grandest kind_

_I can withhold like it's going out of style_

_I can be the moodiest baby _

_And you've never met anyone who _

_Is as negative as I am sometimes." _

I frowned as Romano sang. He had a nice voice, but the lyrics didn't really fit him in my opinion. Sure, he could be all those things, but I knew that deep down he was actually a good person. He really cared for his little brother, and he'd been devastated when Ancient Rome died, even though the man never really cared for Romano.  
I continued the song, smiling at the lyrics. Was Romano trying to compliment me?

"_I am the wisest man you've ever met._

_I am the kindest soul with whom you've connected._

_I have the bravest heart that you've ever seen_

_And you've never met anyone who's_

_As positive as I am sometimes." _

I'd changed the lyrics slightly- just because the original singer was a woman didn't make me one!  
As Romano continued with the chorus, I joined him, walking towards him. The song was really romantic, and well, I was Spain.  
Romano on the other hand backed away. Why did he always run from me? I wouldn't hurt him...

"_You see everything, you see every part_

_You see all my light and you love my dark_

_You dig everything of which I'm ashamed_

_There's not anything to which you can't relate_

_And you're still here" _

"_I blame everyone else, not my own partaking_

_My passive-aggressiveness can be devastating_

_I'm terrified and mistrusting_

_And you've never met anyone as,_

_As closed down as I am sometimes._

_You see everything, you see every part_

_You see all my light and you love my dark_

_You dig everything of which I'm ashamed_

_There's not anything to which you can't relate_

_And you're still here._

_What I resist, persists, and speaks louder than I know._

_What I resist, you love, no matter how low or high I go."_

"_I'm the funniest man that you've ever known."_

"_I'm the dullest man that you've ever known."_

"_I'm the most gorgeous man that you've ever known."_

"_And you've never met anyone_

_Who is as everything as I am sometimes."_

"_You see everything,"_

"_You see everything." _

"_You see every part,"_

"_You see every part."_

"_You see all my light," _

"_You see all my light." _

"_And you love my dark,"_

"_And you love my dark."_

"_You dig everything," _

"_You dig everything."_

"_Of which I'm ashamed," _

"_Of which I'm ashamed."_

"_There's not anything," _

"_There's not anything." _

"_To which you can't relate," _

"_To which you can't relate."_

"_And you're still here."_

"_You see everything, you see every part."_

"_And you're still here."_

"_You see all my light, and you love my dark."_

"_And you're still here."_

"_You dig everything of which I'm ashamed._

_There's not anything to which you can't relate."_

"_And you're still here... " _

I kept walking towards Romano as we kept singing. I really understood the song- It was true for me.  
I loved Romano.  
Everything about him- his moodiness, the way he cared for the people and things that were dear to him, his anger at the world, his mistrust, it was all part of him.  
He wouldn't be Romano without it, and I never wanted him to change.  
Without even noticing it, I'd backed Romano up to the bed.  
A bit nervous, I gently kissed his lips.  
Romano gasped, and I drew back.  
"Leave."  
Hanging my head, I left.  
How could I have been so stupid?  
Romano didn't like me.  
What if he really did think I was a bastard?  
But I still loved him...

* * *

**A/N: Yup. There you go. Not my best, I apologize, but... I'm a romantic! It's hard to write a non-tear inducing one-sided relationship.  
**

**I own nothing but- actually, I own nothing. I just take other people's ideas and turn them into smut people like to read! **

**Contests: **

**SORT-OF CONTEST 1: Same as last chapter, peeps! I want card ideas, song ideas, kinks, plot twists, etc, etc, etc. If there's a couple you want to be the next chapter, just tell me. Mwah! *blows kiss***

**CONTEST 2: Final Forfeit contest! Remember the "bet" from a few chapters ago? Well, I have gotten many wonderful and devious ideas for what the losing team should have to do, but like a fat kid with candy, I WANT MORE! So come on, use the evil minds I know you have and think up a horrendous punishment for our _favorite _countries! Great riches await you if you do! Not really, but the winner shall get a one-shot. **

**CONTEST 3: 50th Reviewer Contest! Should be fairly self-explanatory. 50th reviewer gets a one-shot. Are you ready? On your marks... Get set... Review! **

**Review/Fave/Follow! **

**XOXO, France **


	6. FrUK: You Make Me Sick

**A/N: Yes, it's been forever. I am deeply sorry, and I promise I shall do my best from now on to give you regular updates. I am not abandoning this story or any of my other unfinished ones, don't worry. **

**Couple this chapter is FrUK, also known as the fangirl's swearword. Song is chosen because of the sound, I do recommend you listen as you read. The lyrics, in my opinion (at least, the chorus) describe their relationship very well. I've also considered this song for RusAme, but the sound is too calm/loving for them, so. **

**No review replies this time around, it's been way too long. Sorry! **

**However… Little Miss Abrasive, I believe you are the 50****th**** reviewer, so as promised, you get a oneshot! Anything you want, just PM me the info and I'll write it for you! **

**~SONG FOR THIS CHAPTER IS YOU MAKE ME SICK BY P!NK~**

"Okay, out with it," England said as they entered their private room.

"Out with what?" France asked in a fake-innocence voice, batting his eyelashes.

"Whatever it is! You've been smug about something since the moment we were partnered."

"Oh, huh. That. I'm merely surprised you didn't expect that, _cher._"

England froze.

"What do you mean, expect it?" France shrugged, sitting down on the bed.

"Oh, nothing. Lie down, will you?"

"What- no! Why?"

France shot him his best sex smirk and enjoyed England's reaction as the other blushed.

"I get to massage you, _cher. _Now take your shirt off and lie down."

"What about my card?" England whined, though he still did as he was told.

"Well, what is it?" France asked, gently taking his gloves off and setting them down on the nightstand. England turned redder.

"I, ehm, I have to say what I, er, love most about you, and, ah…"

France grinned, and snapped his fingers, the magic of the cards producing a rose-scented oil.

"Well, that's lovely. Please, do continue."

England's next words were barely audible as he hid his face in the pillow.

"…I have to announce it to the group."

Laughing, France poured a bit of the oil into his hands. He thought for a moment, then dimmed the lights and put on some faint classical music.

"Really, France?"

"Shhh…"

Rubbing his hands together to warm up the oil, he placed them onto England's back. Immediately, the other country jumped, and France rolled his eyes.

"If I was trying to hurt you, it wouldn't be with a fucking massage. Now relax."

Slowly, tenderly, he ran his hands down England's sides, spreading the oil. Moving back up, he carefully kneaded the shoulder muscles.

"Mmm.."

England gave a soft sigh of contentment as he finally relaxed into the bedspread. A lazy smile slipped over France's face. He didn't hate England, not really. Not as much as the other hated him.

In fact, if England didn't hate him as much and wasn't only doing this because he had to, France would certainly have tried to grope him. As such, he settled for simply running his hands over smooth, tanned back muscles.

Flicking a stray curl out of the way, France poured a bit more oil into his hands and continued, sliding his fingers down the dip of England's spine and lightly running them over the hem of his pants.

The country beneath him shifted uncomfortably, and France moved his hands back up, around England's neck, brushing golden yellow hair.

"You're really good at this," England sighed as he felt quite a bit of his tension fade away.

"Merci."

France's voice was faint, and England suspected that he was more relaxed by the act than England himself was.

The thought of France falling asleep on him like this, covered in massage oil, amused him and he started laughing.

"Oh, _come on_!" France complained, getting off of England as the other laughed, breaking the peaceful mood.

"We're almost out of time anyway," England said, putting his shirt and coat back on as France washed his hands, putting on his gloves.

"You know…" France said, staring down at his boots.

"What?"

"If you liked that… I'm not that good, but I know a guy, in Paris… If you want, I can…" Finally, England rescued him from his awkward proposal.

"You're asking me if I want to visit your masseuse?"

A nod.

England just stared. It was a perfectly innocent suggestion, at least, innocent as far as France was concerned, and yet the other was incredibly embarrassed about asking it.

"I think the smell of that oil went to your head," England said, opening the door. "Come on, a couple of them are already out there."

France nodded, hurrying past his partner to the safety of the couches.

_What on earth is wrong with him?_ England shook his head, sighing, as he followed the confusing country.

**A/N: Hope you people liked it! I always had the mental image of France being a masseuse. **

**I don't own Hetalia, sorry! Don't worry, though, I'm workin on it! ;) **

Contests:

Contest #Un: CARD IDEAS! (and song ideas, too) Send 'em my way, darlings, because a lot of my ideas come from you and the point of this story is to please! (And I want fucking everything you people can think up. If you don't feel comfortable putting it in a review, then PM me :P)

Contest #Du: The Final Forfeit! Here, you get to think up a wicked, wicked, wicked punishment for the losing team (the team has not been determined yet.) You people have really outdone yourselves with the suggestions you've sent me so far, frankly quite a few of them terrify me, but this contest is open until pretty much the last chapter or so, so keep sending ideas! The person who's idea I choose will get a oneshot.

Contest #Trois: Since we have already reached our 50th reviewer (actually, 60th. Holy shit! You people love me! I love you too! So much!) it's time to ramp it up! This time around, you lovelies have to reach 75. You can do it, I believe in you!

Oh, okay, you want motivation. You want _prizes. _I get it, I get it, my love and affection ain't good enough no more.

Alright, the 75th reviewer gets a oneshot. Now have at it!

Review/Fave/Follow!

XOXO, France


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